Highland Storm (Guardians of Scotland Book 2)

by Victoria Zak

  Shocked, Effie leaned back into the chair. She hadn’t been back home in over five years and she had hoped to never have to return.

  “Here drink this.” Abigale handed her a glass of wine. “Are ye alright?” She felt Effie’s head for fever. “No fever.”

  The women’s voices began to muffle as Effie dug down deeper into her inner musings.

  Why did her father want her home? Was he ill? Perhaps something had happened to Tavish. Surely her father would have mentioned that type of information in the note?

  Mayhap Conall wasn’t on business after all. That’s it, Effie thought. Could Conall have found out who her father was and gone to him to ask for her hand in marriage, to bless the marriage? He would be there waiting for her and making arrangements to marry her at the castle in front of her family. For the love of saints, she hoped not. If Tavish was there he would make damn sure to tell Conall all about her past and ruin everything she’d kept a secret all these years.

  Effie’s heart raced and she began to panic. Taking in a deep breath she tried to calm her rattled nerves. Breathe Effie, breathe. There’s no way he could find out unless... Alice. Alice was the only one who knew her true last name. Surely Conall did not know she was a Maxwell? It was really quite silly for her to even think that he was at Caerlaverock. Alice had promised to never tell her secret and she knew Alice would hold true to her word.

  Besides, the warrior had told her he had business to take care of. Something along the lines of cattle raiding. It was hard to pay attention when an incredibly sexy Highlander had his hands all over her. There was no way he would be at Caerlaverock waiting for her.

  Her vision began to blur back to auld memories. When she had arrived at Black Stone she’d been bruised and battered, having been severely beaten.

  She had been back at Caerlaverock, waking from a fog. Her head pounded, her body ached, and her face was numb. Sitting up slowly through the shooting pain, Effie opened one eye, for the other one was swollen shut. As her surroundings began to become visible, she noticed she was lying in hay with the smell of horse manure and soiled straw lingering in the air. She must be in the stables but how she got here she couldn’t quite remember.

  Aye, she recalled the recent beating her brother had doled out to her, but as for how she made it to the stables, that was a mystery. All she knew was enough was enough. She refused to allow her body to be used again by some drunken lout Tavish had promised her to. There was no desire in bedding a man whose breath reeked of ale and who only wanted to pleasure himself and cared naught about her. No longer could she stand the smell of ale; it turned her gut.

  Furthermore, the shame. The shame was eating her alive. A tear rolled off her cheek as she sat weakly observing the stables, regaining her strength. She had become numb and felt nothing. Going through each day cold as ice was the only way she knew how to deal with life. On the other hand it was how she protected herself. She had concealed her true self behind a façade for so long, she no longer recognized the woman she had become.

  When she had refused a man who was heavy in the pockets and belly, Tavish was beyond irate with her and he made sure she knew it as well.

  His rage came down upon her fist by fist and blow by blow until she must have blacked out from the pain. His shouting and screaming rang through her head.

  “Ye be my whore!” Tavish shouted and pushed her into her bedchamber. “When I say ye’ll bed a man, ye’ll do as I say!” He slapped her across the face, splitting her lip.

  “Nay, Tavish! I can no’ do it anymore!” Effie fought back but it was no use. The fire in her brother’s eyes was lit. She was going to pay dearly for her disobedience.

  “Whore! Do ye want me to tell father aboot yer lover?” He cocked his fist back and with powerful force it connected with her face, sending her staggering backwards until she fell to the ground.

  Now she was here, in the stables, rocking back and forth trying to stop the memories of his shouting from ringing in her ears. Closing her eyes tightly, she erased the visions floating around in her head. Aye, she’d had enough.

  She didn’t know how she got here, nor why she wasn’t dead. Surely she must have had a guardian angel looking down on her, for she couldn’t have made it here alone by her own strength.

  The sound of a horse munching on hay brought her attention back to the fact that she needed to escape this hell. Aye, she would miss her da, but if she stayed she was as good as dead and she wasn’t ready to die just now. Leaving would set her free. As close as she was to her da, he would forgive her in time for parting ways from him without a goodbye, but bedding a man before marriage, her father would not easily overlook.

  It was risky to leave; however it was a risk she was willing to take. Tavish could still blackmail her if he found her, or worse yet, find her and make her pay. She didn’t want to think about the consequences. All she wanted was freedom. With that in mind, Effie eyed a chestnut mare. The mare with big, dark, kind eyes glanced back at her as if reassuring her to move forward with her plan. The question was, would she be able to leave Dumfries alive?

  On shaking legs, the redhead moved toward the mare, barely making it before her legs buckled underneath her. In order to stand, for her strength was weakening, Effie had to grab the chestnut around her neck for support. A cold wet nose nudged Effie, encouraging her to keep moving. Taking in a deep breath from the cold night air, with all her might she flung her leg over the mare’s back and settled herself. She kicked the horse into motion and hung on for dear life, praying that they would make it out of Dumfries alive.

  With only the clothes on her back and a fatigued mare, Effie, by the grace of God, found herself on Douglas land. As she reached Black Stone, she could no longer hang onto her horse and she fell from its back onto the cold hard ground, unconscious from the pain and cold.

  When she awoke, it was to an older gray-haired woman tending to her wounds.

  “Where am I?” Effie asked.

  “Black Stone on the Hill, lass. And ye be safe here,” the woman answered.

  “Who are ye?”

  “Me name is Alice. I’m laird Douglas’s eyes and ears around here.” She paused as she wiped the blood from the corner of Effie’s mouth. “Now it be me turn to ask the questions. Who are ye and who did this to ye, lass?”

  Effie hesitated, wondering if she should tell her the truth. Douglas land was safe, that she knew by the way her father talked about Clan Douglas. They were allies.

  “Look, lass, I know ye’ve run into some kind of trouble. These kind of wounds tell a tale.” Alice studied Effie intently as she waited for an answer.

  Desperate to stay, Effie had to tell Alice everything, well almost everything. No one needed to know the extent of her past. Plus Alice looked like she always got her way, a no nonsense kind of woman.

  “If I tell ye who I am, can ye promise me that I can stay here, at Black Stone?”

  “Aye.”

  “Me name is Effie Maxwell and I seek protection.”

  “Lass, yer secret is safe with me as long as there be no trouble. We are in need of another hand around here, especially in the kitchens. Are ye able to work the kitchen?”

  “Aye. I’ll do whatever ye wish as long as ye dinnae send me back home.”

  “Well then, Effie Douglas, consider Black Stone yer home.”

  Relief like she had never felt before washed over her broken and beaten body. She had a home. As tears streamed down her face, the realization that she had a new home and life was too much for Effie to comprehend at the moment, but as she lay there she knew the road ahead was going to be hard. She had a lot of healing to do. Making a promise to herself, she vowed to never look back, for tonight she became Effie Douglas.

  “Effie. Please say something.” Abigale’s voice weaved into her blurred memory and brought her back to the here and now.

  “I’m fine,” Effie said.

  “Oh thank God!” Abigale blew out a breath in relief. “I thought ye had gone into s
ome kind of shock.”

  Perhaps she had. The note brought back some memories she’d thought she had erased. Unfortunately, it seemed her past was catching up with her.

  “I did no’ mean to worry ye. I skipped breakfast this morn and I feel a wee bit ill. ’Tis all. I’ll be fine,” reassured Effie.

  Excited about planning a wedding, Effie had missed breakfast. Conall had left a day ago, which left her with two days to plan. She had been so busy she’d forgotten to tell Alice and Abigale about her betrothal. Her stomach flopped again. Aye, missing breakfast wasn’t a good idea.

  Effie looked from Alice to Abigale, they were hovering over her like nervous nellies. “I’m getting married.”

  Silence filled the room. Alice and Abigale stood dumbfounded with their mouths wide open.

  “Married?” Alice asked.

  “Conall asked me to be his wife.” Effie beamed as her smile spread across her face.

  Abigale squealed and clapped her hands. “When’s the wedding?”

  “In two days but I just got a message from me da, he wants me to come home.”

  “Did he say why?” Alice asked with a concerned look upon her face.

  “Nay, but I must leave now.”

  “Are ye sure? Do ye want someone to go with ye? I can ask Rory since Conall isnae here,” Alice asked.

  Effie saw how nervous Alice became when she mentioned returning home. She had seen her that horrible night and by the look on Alice’s face, she did not want Effie to go back to Dumfries.

  “I’ll be fine, Alice. No need to involve Rory. As much as I love his company,” Effie said sarcastically, “I’ll pass.”

  Abigale looked down at her belly and rubbed it.

  “Oh Abigale, I’ll be back before the babe is born,” Effie promised.

  “Good, I can no’ go through the birth withoot ye.” Abigale smiled.

  Two Days? Could she actually make it home and back before Conall returned? If she was gone when he arrived back at Black Stone, he would come looking for her. Most definitely, she did not want that to happen. Effie had to leave at once and prayed she would be back here in time. Without knowing what she was up against this could be a daunting task. Time was not on her side.

  ~~~~~

  The earthy smell of marshland mixed with the salty sea breezes brought Effie home as she sat on her chestnut mare, the same one she had left with not so long ago, overlooking Caerlaverock Castle. A flock of sea larks hovered over the castle riding the gusting wind, spiraling towards the heavens. Graying clouds billowed above indicating a storm was on its way. Her escort was stoic, not providing much if any company.

  The day’s journey had started out before sunrise and now was ending just as the evening approached. The rain had held off most of the day and now a light drizzle fell, leaving Effie cold and damp.

  The closer she came to Dumfries, the more her stomach soured. Overcome with dread, she knew that Tavish would be there waiting. Effie shivered as she thought back to an unforgettable time.

  The nameless men her brother had promised her to were just that; nameless and faceless, yet unforgettable. She’d joined with countless men just to keep her secret safe and hidden from her da. The beatings her brother punished her with when she didn’t oblige his demands, kept her obedient. Tavish kept his mouth shut and fists under control as long as Effie obeyed. Her father could never know that his only daughter, his pride and joy, had been a whore.

  When her ma died of fever, Effie had been ten-and-eight. The emptiness she felt at losing her ma was unbearable, so much that she clung to her da as if he was her life-support. They had become extremely close. Being overly protective of his daughter, Sir Herbert never pushed the idea of marriage; he was perfectly content to have Effie home and by his side. Looking back she could see why. He had mourned his wife terribly; they both had. Effie was all that he had left to remind him of his late wife. Life had been comfortable then, until the day she’d met the lad she was going to marry, William.

  William was a neighboring clan chief’s son, noble bred, tall, dark and wickedly handsome. The moment she bumped into him at the market, it was lust at first sight. How quickly William had turned her into a wanton lass, she thought. In no time at all they were scampering off to secluded places to be alone.

  Effie stopped her horse just shy of the twin-towered gatehouse. Memories flashed before her of William, down on bended knee, asking her hand in marriage. It was supposed to be the happiest day of her life. As they were celebrating the moment hidden in the horse stable, naked, wrapped up in passion, Tavish walked in and saw them. To this day, the mischievous look on his face was still branded on her mind.

  As soon as they knew they were in company, Tavish seized the opportunity to his advantage. He called her a whore and began to call out lies about her. She could still remember the look on William’s face, ashamed and humiliated. She had tried to stop him and make him listen to her. It was of no use, the damage had been done. William walked away.

  Pleased with his outcome, Tavish reassured Effie that he would indeed keep her premarital bedding a secret, but she would have to pay. At the time she had no choice, it would kill her father if he ever found out. Knowing now just how much it had cost her, she wished she had rethought her options.

  Still to this day, she didn’t know what conspired between William and Tavish. All she knew was William never called upon her again and she was left to be blackmailed by her brother. Five years of hell would have been more pleasant then the sins she was forced to commit. Effie shook her head, trying to quell her burdensome past. No amount of redemption could save her soul. She was Tavish’s whore.

  It had to be the fatigue setting in, causing her mind to swirl with plagued memories. Time was against her. It was time to be brave and walk through the gates of her childhood home.

  There was a part of her that wished her dragon was here to protect her but that hope slipped away, for she knew it was silly to believe such nonsense. Conall could not have found out her true identity.

  Clucking her horse forward, she passed beneath the arching entrance of the gatehouse. What has happened here? When she had left, the castle was in tiptop shape inside and out. There were no signs of weathered stones, yet now they were covered in moss and lichen. Whereas the bridge leading to the gatehouse was once strong, cracks had broken through the foundation, weakening the structure.

  As she trotted her mare across the bridge, her heart dropped. The north tower, once a powerful stronghold, lay in ruins as if it had been attacked.

  Before she came to a halt, she was greeted by a stable hand. Effie observed the castle, confused, as she dismounted. The hand took her horse, walking it to the stable.

  “Good eve, Mistress Maxwell!”

  Maxwell? She almost didn’t recognize her auld name. She hadn’t been called a Maxwell in so long that it had become foreign to her. It hadn’t dawned on her that everyone here knew her as Effie Maxwell.

  A man she recognized all too well came into view. “Sir Neil, ’tis good to see ye.” Effie greeted him with a warm smile. Not only had the knight been close to her father and a trusted friend, he was clan chieftain and commander of the Maxwell war band. “Where’s father?”

  The Highlander fell grim. “’Tis best ye rest and eat. I’ll escort ye to yer chambers.”

  Effie found his behavior a wee bit odd to say the least, but agreed with the knight’s orders anyway. Following Neil up the stairs to the gatehouse tower where her bedchamber awaited, she had to admit, a bath, some food, and a bed sounded like heaven.

  Chapter 6

  The frigid chill of winter bit through Effie’s bedchamber as she awoke to a shiver. Pulling the furs around her neck she snuggled deeper into her bed, not wanting to get up. Soon after last eve’s bath, she meant to take a short rest, then meet her father for the last meal, but her body had succumbed to sleep.

  The door groaned open and she could hear light scampering of feet brushing the stone floors.

  “
Conall!” Effie quickly sat up in bed.

  “Nay, my lady. ’Tis me, Maggie.” The chambermaid busied herself stacking wood next to the hearth.

  Effie plopped back down into the bed disappointed that her visitor wasn’t Conall. She must have been dreaming. Aye, a beautiful dream.

  “Good morn, my lady,” greeted the maid.

  Effie stretched her arms high over her head. “Good morn.” She yawned. She couldn’t remember the last time she had slept so soundly.

  Effie took in the view of her childhood chamber; nothing had changed much. It was a spacious room with colorful rugs placed neatly on the floor, and matching tapestries hung proudly on the walls. One tapestry stood out from the rest, one she was happy to see still hanging. As her mother had lain in bed dying of fever, Effie had made a beautiful embroidery of a wee girl holding her mother’s hand as angels looked down upon them from the heavens above. After it was finished, Effie had placed the tapestry over her mother’s body. She believed the angels would protect her as her mother slipped in and out of consciousness. Effie closed her eyes, not wanting to cry. I miss ye, ma.

  When her eyes opened, a white sheet covering an oddly shaped object lying on a chair, came into view. Effie flung her feet over the side of the bed and stood up. Wrapping the fur around her shivering body, she walked over to the object and pulled the sheet off.

  The gold shined anew, the strings were tight, and the embedded Celtic knot work was still unforgettable. It was her harp. Running her hand over the strings, her fingers itched to play.

  Melody, she had named her harp. When life was rough, and it had been, Effie would lose herself behind the harp, playing Melody as if it was second nature to her. It was an escape she often took to bring her clarity.

  “I have a fresh gown and shoes for ye.” The chambermaid brought the dress over to her.